


Roommates

by brokenhighways



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, Gen, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/pseuds/brokenhighways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While cohabiting with a mass murderer is Nygma's choice, living with a mass murderer that owns more umbrellas than necessary and eats him out of food is another thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frozenglibber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenglibber/gifts).



Spicy mustard used to be a simple condiment. Great with hot dogs, fries and juicy burgers. Nygma usually makes his own and stashes it in the fridge. He likes that. Making his own things. Paving his own way in this world. And while cohabiting with a mass murderer is his choice, living with a murderer that owns more umbrellas than necessary and eats him out of food is another thing.  

That's not to say that Mr Penguin isn't an adequate companion. 

_What force and strength  Can not get through,  I with a gentle touch can do,  And many in the streets would stand,  Were I not as a friend in hand.   What am I?_  

**A key.**  

Penguin is the key to unleashing his inner greatness and Nygma knows that. A man scorned is a powerful man. Two men scorned, well? He wishes everyone else good luck and fortune. One could say that it is easy to given into the darkness. To watch memories of Ms Kringle pass across each day, too far from his reach and too close to his heart. Sometimes easy is what works.  

However, Mr Penguin is a terrible roommate.  

While he needs Mr Penguin, he's not about to channel his inner Betty Crocker just so that he can have the perfect accomplice.  

Things have to change.  

"You want me to what?" Mr Penguin asks when Nygma suggests that he learn how to make some basic meals. He's long suspected that Mr Penguin was a mother's boy, completely coddled and babied his entire life, but part of being free of that shackle is learning how to survive.  

Mr Penguin has a lot to learn about basic necessities and inclinations.  

"Cook and clean, Mr Penguin," Nygma reiterates with a long-suffering sigh. "While I appreciate the companionship and intellectual battle of wits we share, I think we need some ground rules." 

Mr Penguin's face is trapped between half-sneer, half-confusion and his spiky black hair lies limp. Nygma stifles a comment about hygiene. He reasons that it is better to choose his battles wisely.  

"My mother used to do all of that," Mr Penguin intones, with a sniffle thrown in for extra effect. Nygma has seen enough in these past few weeks to know when Mr Penguin's emotions are genuine. They aren't currently.  

"Your mother believed that you could do anything, Mr Penguin. In the end, she died believing that she raised a courageous young man who was capable of looking after himself."  Mr Penguin eyes him for a few moments. Nygma cannot determine if he's pondering his words or attempting to think of a better excuse but he sincerely hopes that it’s the former.  

There are only so many pizza delivery men that they can torture. Nygma doesn't really enjoy terrorising innocent people.  

Well.  

He _does_  but that's beside the point.  

"I _am_ capable of looking after myself," Mr Penguin insists emphatically, though the sheepish look on his face sullies his tone.  

Nygma grins all the same. Progress is progress, no matter what form it comes in. He holds up a spatula and extends it in Mr Penguin's direction.  

Mr Penguin glares at the spatula angrily. "What the hell is that?" 

Nygma's smile drops and he sighs to himself wearily. It's going to be very long day.  

 


End file.
